last night.

T., I picked you up early yesterday--partly because you've been a little under the weather this week, but mostly because I missed you and wanted to hang out with you.

I commanded you to say goodbye to your teachers and friends like I do everyday, and you pretty much ignored me, like you do everyday, but then you turned to one boy in particular and said "BAHBYENATE!" Then you leaned in and gave him a big wet smooch.

The adults snickered and made lots of "wait 'til her dad finds out" comments (seriously, you're 19 months old). You were unperturbed and continued to chant "natenatenatenate" all the way to the car.

the day in which the illness was resolved and we ditched out on our normal schedule

T., the doctor kept us waiting for at least 30 minutes yesterday. It must have felt like years to you, but you kept your cool. We read a few stories. Then you decided it would be a good idea to climb into your stroller, stand up, slide down the backrest until you were sitting, buckle the belt and ask for more in the way that you've been asking for more since you first encountered bananas. "Nuuuh?" Over and over and over again, you climbed in, slid down and buckled.

I realized you could do this set of maneuvers the other day. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw you head toward the stroller. I thought you were just grabbing some stale cheerio or something left behind on the seat, but then I heard a thunk. a pause. a scream. You tipped the rig, but no harm done. The doctor's office seemed like a perfectly fine place to smash one's head doing stroller stunts, so I let you go for it. I figured if we weren't seen in a few minutes there'd be some screaming anyway.

She eventually popped in to listen to your chest and tell me you were cured! Not clear of what malady, but cured nonetheless. Maybe you'll have asthma, maybe not, she wouldn't say. Our interaction was really vague and pointless other than to hand back "the machine" and give us license to have a fun afternoon playing hooky from our respective institutions. You opted out of a nap, but who can blame you? Why catch up on sleep when you haven't slept for about 3 nights? I let it go since you were in such a nice mood. So we had a pleasant lunch during which you ate a pile of sauted spinach and finally consented to carrot soup (which supposedly helps with breathing issues [along with radishes]) when it was poured into a vessel-with-straw. Your expression after the first sip suggested that you had blown several neurons. I can only imagine that when we move away from here and you have to find ways to represent your birth-state, you will become an obsessive juicer.

The rest of our afternoon was really nice. We haven't had a whole day together, just the two of us, in a long time and it was great. I almost lost it when you repeatedly rammed Gretchen and her stroller into the stove as I was making soup, but otherwise we both kept it together. When did you get to be so much fun?

the time is right for xopenex (TM)

T., I gave you my eyebrows, my interest in textiles and now it seems, my inability to breathe in early December. You were up a large part of the night breathing a familiar wheeze, a sound that fills me with sadness, gives me the chills and brings back way too many memories of your grandma with her ear to my back assessing the likelihood of a doctor's visit.

Genes are still unpredictable enough that somehow in the leap of faith it takes to have a child, you hope that your genes and your mate's will meet and come up with only the best possible scenario. With pride and wonder, I've seen you hike steep trails of late suggesting that you've inherited the propensity for mountain climbing from your dad's side and I've watched you carry around this mangled scrap of fabric like you have a big sewing project in the works, but it's situations like this lurking in the future that can really freak a parent out. You are such a little adventurer that the thought of you as an asthmatic adventurer is, well, a real bummer. No one's called it that yet, but I still fear it and I don't really know why. I think it's because asthma is one of those strange conditions that's both completely manageable and totally life-threatening all at once and I've been on both sides.

I just came back from nebulizing you at daycare. You were so happy to have a mid-day visit and took your dose with no problem. I caught a little bit of the sweet air too and have to say that I'm feeling a bit mellower about everything. There's not much we can do but take it one day at a time and hope we all get more than 4 hours of sleep tonight.